


The Price of Love

by indigo_carter



Series: Supernatural Smut [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Smut, anxiety regarding this, virgin!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_carter/pseuds/indigo_carter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: @maryjcarman Can you do a fic where the reader and dean have sex and the reader is a virgin so when dean enters her it really hurts and after she is really sore and he takes care of her and stays with her and they keep having sex<br/>Reader Gender: Female<br/>Word Count: 2,700+<br/>Warnings: Losing virginity, reader anxiety regarding this, I think that’s it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price of Love

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I was really uncomfortable with this prompt, but I love the concept of virgin!reader with Dean. I have moral/ethical issues with portraying a girl’s first time as painful, as if it’s done properly there shouldn’t be any pain, so I’ve fiddled with it a bit. I really hope that’s ok.

“Y/N!” Sammy’s voice echoed through the bunker. “Y/N, we figured out what we’re dealing with! Can’t believe we didn’t recognise it before…!” He stopped outside your room. “Y/N?” You stood up from where you were lounging on your bed and threw your door open.

“Yes?”

“We…we figured out…are you ok?”

“Yes, Sam.” You peered regretfully over your shoulder at the book lying on the bed, its pages fanning as they fell closed. God knew how long it would take you to find your place again.

“Right…if you say so. Anyway, we figured out what we’re dealing with!”

“Oh?”

“Dragons!”

“Dragons. Seriously?”

“Yep, they’re pretty keen on using virginal blood to open up the gates of Hell. Seems to be the only thing they want, besides gold.”

“V-virginal?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty…are you ok?”

“Yes, Sam!” You fought a blush from your cheeks. “Do you need any help?”

“We’re just doing some research, want to come?”

“Sure. I lost my place in my book anyway.”

“Sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sam.” You gazed back into your room, and turned the light off with some resignation. It would be dragons. You had been dreading a dragon hunt since you’d first started hunting with the boys – it wasn’t necessarily that you hadn’t wanted to have sex, but the fear of pain and blood and the complete unknown put you off time and time again. Suddenly, you were regretting the circumstances which led to this moment. Sooner or later, you were going to have to tell them.

Some hours later, the three of you were hard at work in the library. A still, comfortable silence filled the room, interrupted only by the sounds of turning pages and the scuffling of pen on paper. You put down your pen and stretched, curving your back over the arm of the chair you were sitting cross-wise in, straightening your legs and lifting your butt from the seat of the chair. Dean gave a slight cough, and you dropped back into your chair, eyes flickering to his. His cheeks and neck were stained ruddy, and you smirked at him before burying your face in your book once more.

Fingertips ghosted over the back of your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine, as someone padded behind you to exit the room, and you looked up to see Sam peering out from behind an enormous tome in confusion.

“I’ll go see if there’s anything wrong.” You offered, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. Sticking a strip of paper in the book to mark your place, you softly closed it, placed it on the table, and wandered out after Dean. “Dean?” You called out, your voice echoing down the halls.

“In here!” His voice came muffled through the kitchen door. Opening the door, you leaned against the frame and smiled at him. “Can’t a guy get hungry without the damn Spanish inquisition being launched?” He was clearly aiming for grumpy, but only managed stifled laughter, and you stepped through the door, closing it behind you.

“Sure he can, Dean, but he normally makes more fuss than just walking out of the room.” Your smirk grew wider, and you leaned against the side next to him. “Did you want me for something?” You asked, and his brow furrowed.

“What makes you say that?” You replicated his motion, grazing your fingertips across the back of his neck. You felt the hairs there rise as his skin broke into gooseflesh. “Oh.”

“So, uh, did you want something?”

“I always want something from you, Y/N…” his voice was gruff and low, and holy mother of God…you could feel wetness pooling between your legs. He turned to face you, one hand sliding across the kitchen worktop, coming to rest beside your hip. “You’re driving me crazy in there.” His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath ghosting across your face, his warmth only a matter of centimetres away. “Those tiny shorts and that tight top…the way you chew the end of your pen when you’re reading, those little huffs when you’re translating a difficult word, the way you stretch out over the arm of the chair ‘cause you’re sitting in it sideways, lifting that ass…oh shit…that _ass_ , Y/N. I could stare at that ass all day.”

“D-Dean…” You struggled to keep your eyes on his, struggled to keep them _open_ and not let them slide closed and provide the perfect canvas for your imagination to paint a picture of exactly what you want him to do to you. Your breath came in shallow pants as his hand lifted your hair from your neck, his head dipped and his scruff tickled your collar bone as his lips grazed your pulse. Suddenly an image of where this was going struck you like a bolt from the blue. Blood on the sheets, pain blooming between your legs… “Dean, I…”

“Y/N?” He drew back, hands drifting to your shoulders as he crouched down to meet your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Dean, I…I’m a virgin.” You blushed and winced away from him. He frowned at you, following you as you moved away from him.

“Y/N, that…that doesn’t change things.”

“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t know what to expect. It hurts, right? And there’s blood? I don’t want to…go through that. But I know I’m putting you and Sam at risk on this hunt if…I can’t…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there. Pain and blood? Y/N…where on earth did you get that idea?”

“E-everyone knows that. A-a girl’s first time…” You stuttered and stumbled over your words, feeling like you had no idea what you were talking about.

“No.” A single word, and he shook your entire understanding of… _everything_.

“What do you mean, no?”

“What I say…look, Y/N, this isn’t over, but we need to get back to Sammy. I promise, I swear to you, we will talk more later.”

"Ok..." Dean turned to grab the pile of sandwiches he'd made, offered you one, and headed back to the library. You followed meekly behind, stuffing strips of sandwich into your mouth as you went.

***

Darkness fell and, eventually, Sam conceded that maybe the three of you would do better with a few hours’ sleep. You surreptitiously lingered in the library after Sam had put his books and files away, noting anxiously that Dean was also busying himself in the room.

“’Night, you two. Get some sleep, ok?” Sam left the room with a half-hearted wave and rubbing a hand over his eyes. Suddenly, your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour and your palms were sweating. Dean stepped towards you and caught your hand in his.

“Come with me, Y/N. I need to talk to you.” He towed you into his room and, looking at you for permission first, closed the door behind you. “Sit, I…please.” You curled up on his bed, clutching a pillow to your stomach. “Y/N, I…I’m sorry you’re so scared about sex.” You stifled a guffaw of nervous laughter. “But I promise you, when it’s done right, when it’s done with…love, and care, and attention, sex – even the first time – should never be painful. I want to show you that, I want to teach you that.”

“Wh…what?”

“Y/N, I need you on this case. I…fuck, I need you on every case, even when there isn’t a case…” He was blushing, the words seemed to be escaping him, and suddenly you knew exactly what you wanted.

“Dean…” you pressed a finger to his lips, stilling them. “I want this, I want you. Please. Teach me?” His eyes flicked to yours, the pupils widening as his tongue wetted his lips. Desire crashed over you in waves as you watched the way his body moved towards you.

“I won’t push you, Y/N, I won’t rush you. I need to you tell me if you like things, if you want to stop, ok? You need to be 100% honest with me, Y/N. I want this to be good for you.” You nodded shakily, and Dean pulled the pillow from your grasp, sitting beside you and pulling you until you curled against his side, your legs tangled with his. He wrapped one arm around you, and pressed a hand to your cheek, directing you without words to look up into his face. Smiling down at you, he dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss, gently demanding as his lips moved against yours. The kiss deepened gradually, his touch becoming more insistent, and you willingly submitted to him.

He pulled away from you, trailing kisses over your temple and forehead, shifting out from under you, kneeling between your legs and looking down at you.

"Y/N?" You gazed up at him, your hands wandering over his chest and stomach, pushing up the fabric of his - really far too numerous - shirts. He took this as your answer, tugging the shirts over his head, and you admired the way his skin moved over muscle and flesh. Your eyes tracked over the scars of his body and your fingers moved to trace them, almost against your will. He tensed and let out a shuddering breath before letting his own fingers explore your body, pushing your top up millimetre by millimetre, exposing your skin to his eyes and fingers and _lips…Jesus the way those lips moved over your skin_.

Sitting up, you tugged the restraining top away from you and in a moment of bravery also cast your bra to one side. Dean sat back from you, admiring your body, and smiled at you.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” You smiled, shyly, and lay back under his gentle touches. He trailed his fingers over your shoulders, callouses rough but not unpleasant, and you shivered under his touch. Your breasts pebbled into peaks, and he caught your eye before dipping his head to capture a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking until you were writhing with pleasure under him. Heat throbbed between your legs, a pulsating _need_ which had your hips bucking up against Dean’s thigh. He lifted his head from where he was pleasuring your chest, a smirk on his face. You tugged on his hair, pulling him up to press your lips fervently to his, his hips settling snugly between yours, the bulge at his groin pressing against your wetness through multiple layers of clothes. A groan escaped from you, and Dean slid his lips down your neck, his hips rocking against yours, barely giving you a hint of the friction you found yourself craving.

“Dean…” his name left your lips on a sigh of pleasure, and your hands slid down his smooth chest to push ineffectually at his jeans, slung low on his hips.

“Yes, baby?” He smirked at you again, and you pushed at him.

“Want you…please.” You shoved at his jeans again, hooking your fingers under the waist band and inside his boxers, the backs of your fingers grazing the sensitive skin of his lower stomach, and earning a groan from him, a display of momentary loss of control on his part which had your head spinning. He reared away from you, fingers flying to his jeans, unbuttoning them and wrenching down the fly faster than you thought possible, tugging both jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion. His heavy, thick cock curved against his stomach, and you swallowed as you gazed at him. He was beautiful, and you suddenly felt like you didn’t deserve his touch. As if he read your mind, he leaned over you, holding himself above you, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. I promise you, Y/N, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to.” His voice was low and genuine, and he began dragging kisses down your throat, through the valley between your breasts, over the softness of your belly, and his hands rose to meet his mouth at the opening of your shorts. He unbuttoned them slowly, pulling shorts and panties down at an excruciating pace, his lips following in their path, and your body prickled with tension.

Lifting himself, he lay beside you, his hand splayed over your lower stomach, the other arm wrapped around you, pulling your body into the cradle of his body. You ran your hand down his side, tracing over his ribs and along his hip. Your fingers curled around his length and slid up and down once. The sound Dean made in the back of his throat was one of undeniable need. His hips rolled as he ground himself into your fist. In response, his hand eased between your thighs and then one gentle fingertip circled your throbbing clit, and a gasp slipped from between your lips as pleasure bloomed. He let his single fingertip rock gently over the swollen nub, and you shuddered against him as a fresh wave of desire washed over you, centring somewhere between your aching core and the torturous pleasure he was working on your clit. You bucked your hips against his hand, your fist tightening on his cock, sliding along his length several times in your desperation to be _filled_ by something. He let out a guttural groan, and you moaned in response.

A single long finger slipped inside, and you gasped, your fingers gripped him as tight as you dared.

“Fuck, Dean, more, please more.” He grinned into your hair and added a second finger, stretching you open, and you groaned with pleasure. His fingers worked you over, your wetness running over his hand as he fingered you expertly. Your grip on his member loosened, and he growled, pulling his body away from you and kneeling between your thighs, his second hand joining the first, his thumb pressing on your clit and… _fuck_ …suddenly there was a white-hot coil of pleasure curling inside you and you arched up into his hands.

“Ah-hh, baby, let go…” His voice was velvet gravel to your ears, and you couldn’t help but obey, your body clenching down on his fingers as ecstasy ripped through you. Sweat formed on your forehead as you yanked him down to mash your lips to his.

“Dean, I want you.” You huffed the words in the vague direction of his ear, your legs winding around his thighs, pulling his core closer to yours. He pressed his lips to your throat, one hand disappearing from you to grab for a condom from his bedside table. He pulled away momentarily, the rip of foil reaching your ears, and then he was back, one hand guiding his cock to your soaked entrance and his lips on the sweet spot on your neck, driving you crazy.

He slipped a small amount inside and you waited for the pain to start, but beyond a satisfying stretch there was nothing. You rolled your hips against his and felt his jaw tense as he pressed a miniscule amount further inside with each shallow, tentative thrust which you eagerly met with unpractised rolls of your own hips. Eventually, after what felt like half a lifetime of careful thrusts, his hips were flush with yours, and you moaned loudly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight…feel so good around me…” He gasped into your neck. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist as he risked a deeper thrust, your hips rising to meet his, his pelvis rubbing against your clit with each roll of your hips, and that white-hot coil began to form again. Your inner muscles began to flutter and clench around his cock, and you both groaned into each other’s mouths.

“D-Dean…”

“I know, sweetheart.” He thrust a few more times, hitting spots you’d never known existed, and all too soon the coil snapped. Clamping down on his cock, you let out a high-pitched whine, and you felt him tense as his hips stuttered against you, his cock pulsing within you. He lay above you, his head resting on your shoulder, both breathing hard, emotion making up the majority of the exhaustion. His lips moved against your skin, and you pushed his head up.

“What was that?”

“I love you, Y/N.” Your mouth dropped open, and a disbelieving smile worked its way across your face.

“Dean? I…I love you too.” You wrapped your arms more firmly around him and the two of you rolled until you were nestled into his chest, limbs tangled and lips pressed together.


End file.
